


it's been a long cold lonely winter

by vlieger



Series: dumb boys with feelings [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlieger/pseuds/vlieger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott frowns at his mom's favourite rosebush for a long time before he says, "I just have <i>feelings</i>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's been a long cold lonely winter

The main reason Scott agrees to help Derek get the pack trained up or whatever is that he wants to take his mind off of Allison. 

That, and well, his feelings about the whole pack thing are-- complicated. When it comes down to it though, he doesn't _hate_ any of them. 

He's a little scared of Erica, yeah, and Boyd he doesn't really know, and well, Jackson is Jackson, but Isaac-- he _likes_ Isaac. Ever since he turned up for the lacrosse final and just-- Scott doesn't even know, just did his thing and smiled at Scott like they were in this together and stayed, and _helped_ , and even if Scott doesn't want to be part of Derek's pack he can admire the way Isaac is the only one who's stuck with him the whole time, his loyalty, and. Well, they've just been getting along lately, at the clinic and everything, and so yeah. 

Scott isn't against helping out at all. 

It's probably lucky then that Derek wants him to help with Isaac specifically. Or well, at least the first time Scott shows up, because no one else (apart from Peter) is actually in sight. And Scott's pretty sure Peter doesn't need training of any kind. Maybe some kind of de-training, if that's a thing. It'd sure make him feel better, anyway.

"Where's everyone else?" he asks, dropping his jacket next to the door. 

Peter's started making some effort to get the Hale place cleaned out and actually liveable, and it's looking better for it-- the debris has been cleared out and it looks like someone's taken a rag to the place, because there's less dust and ash and general dirtiness. It looks kind of empty though, like it's waiting for something. Furniture, probably, and maybe like, a cogent pack to inhabit it. 

Anyway, Derek makes his _I'm pissed and I don't want to talk about it face_ \-- or at least, Scott thinks that's what this particular expression means; Stiles is way better at interpreting the microscopic shifts that denote his varying shades of emo-- and Peter just looks incredibly amused. 

"Derek's having some minor disagreements with the pack," he says enigmatically. 

Scott glances at Isaac, who shakes his head. "I'll explain later," he says, not bothering to lower his voice. He looks kind of like he's enjoying himself too, but trying to hide it, probably for Derek's sake. 

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," says Derek, unfolding his arms and jumping from the porch into the clearing at the front of the house. "You two, get down here. We're sparring today."

Peter rolls his eyes and takes the steps down to stand next to Derek. 

Scott just stands there kind of awkwardly and looks at Isaac, and Isaac looks back, and Derek rolls his eyes and says, " _Fight_." 

Peter clicks his tongue and mutters, "So crude." 

Derek glares at him and Scott thinks it's kind of hilarious, and then oh, hey, Isaac pounces on him and he's on the ground. 

"Good," says Derek. "Only your opponent probably won't ever be paying so little attention, _Scott_."

"Uh, sorry," says Scott, climbing to his feet and returning Isaac's grin. 

"What exactly are we trying to do here?" says Isaac, a bit hesitantly. 

Everyone looks at Derek expectantly. "You're trying to build up your skills," he says. "And your control. Try to get the better of each other."

"Okay," says Isaac slowly, and turns back to Scott. 

His eyes flash gold and then he's pouncing again. Scott is ready this time so he meets him halfway, and they end up in a tangle of limbs on the ground, dusty autumn leaves all around them, and it is kind of a challenge because Isaac is like, all over-long limbs and bones everywhere, and Scott is trying to navigate them and get the upper hand without _actually_ doing any harm when Peter says to Derek, "Are you actually going to _teach_ them anything? They look like newborn deers." He tilts his head at Isaac. "Or maybe giraffes."

That's not really fair, Scott thinks. He's done this a few times before and come out okay.

"Shut up," says Derek. "They need to fend for themselves."

"You can't expect them to catch anything if you don't actually teach them how to fish first," says Peter. 

Isaac laughs into Scott's chest and rolls off of him, dusting himself off as he climbs to his feet.

Scott can't help grinning back. Isaac's just got one of those smiles.

"Pay attention," Derek tells them irritably. 

"Sorry," says Scott again, shaking his head and trying to centre himself. It's kind of hard with Derek and Peter Hale watching him critically and Isaac standing there too. 

He moves first this time, trying to go for Isaac's legs and take them out of the equation. 

He ends up with said legs tangled around his neck and his face in the dirt. 

Derek makes an annoyed noise. "Don't do that, you're putting yourself at a disadvantage straight away. What if Isaac was a kanima? He'd get your neck on the first go."

"But he's not a kanima," says Scott blankly. 

Peter snorts. "You really can pick them," he says to Derek.

"Well, he's not," says Scott, folding his arms. 

Derek rolls his eyes. "Never mind," he says. "Just-- don't go for his legs this time."

"Fine," says Scott, shaking himself out. 

He catches Isaac's eye as they face off again. He's looking a lot like he's trying not to laugh. 

"It's not funny when you're fighting for your life," says Derek sharply. 

Isaac clears his throat and tries to look serious, which makes Scott laugh because well, his face can be pretty ridiculous when it wants to.

It's a pretty decent tussle this time, except for how Scott accidentally scrapes a claw across Isaac's collarbone and scrambles back immediately, saying, "Sorry, sorry, are you okay?" breathlessly. 

"Of course he's okay, he's a freaking _werewolf_ ," says Derek. 

"Right," says Scott dumbly, watching with Isaac as the cut heals itself. 

"Scott," says Peter, "Try to use speed to your advantage. Isaac will react more slowly because of his height."

Derek shoots Peter a look but doesn't say anything, just purses his lips. 

"Um," says Scott, glancing at Derek. "Okay?"

"Short-ass," mutters Isaac, grinning kind of wildly. His cheeks are starting to get flushed and he sounds a little breathless too, eyes bright. 

"Shut up," says Scott. "I'm _fast_."

"Yeah?" says Isaac. "We'll see." And he leaps at Scott again. 

Derek makes an approving noise and Scott like, tries to take in what Peter said, ducking under one of Isaac's stupidly long arms and using his speed to get around behind him and kind of swipe him onto his back. Isaac blinks up at him, winded. 

"Good," says Peter before Derek can say anything. "Isaac, stop relying so much on your physical advantages and start thinking a bit more."

Isaac bites down on his lip thoughtfully. 

"What are you doing?" Derek mutters to Peter.

"Teaching them to fish," says Peter. 

Derek glares at him for a long moment before turning back to Scott and Isaac. "Again," he says. 

Scott sighs and readies himself. 

"You're going down," says Isaac, baring his teeth. It's still mostly a grin. 

Isaac gets an arm around his middle before Scott can get away this time, and it's kind of a half-win for him, like, he ends up on his back with Scott sprawled out over him, arms trapped by Isaac's elbows, and neither of them can really move.

"Okay," says Peter as they climb back to their feet, "We're getting somewhere, but-- " He stops and rolls his eyes when Derek grabs a fistful of his sleeve. "Excuse me, apparently my nephew wants to have a _word_." He makes a long-suffering face at Scott and Isaac and lets himself get dragged up onto the porch. 

Scott watches them blankly. 

"You getting the feeling this isn't really about us anymore?" says Isaac, stepping up behind him. 

"Just a bit." Scott shakes his head and turns away. Derek's hissing something about "Alphas," and "Things changed while you were _dead_ ," and "Stop trying to worm your way into their heads, this isn't _your_ pack," or something, like, usual run-of-the-mill Derek and Peter issues.

"Hey," adds Scott, "Has Deaton showed you how to force-feed that snake we got in the clinic the other day?"

"No," says Isaac interestedly. "Why do we have to force feed it?"

"Oh my God, it's so freaking awesome, here," says Scott, folding himself onto the ground in a patch of sunlight. 

Isaac sits down across from him and ducks his head in close, neck arched kind of awkwardly like he does when he's listening. 

"So like," Scott starts, "This snake is kind of-- anorexic? It won't eat, anyway, and Deaton says it's maybe because the owner isn't giving it enough privacy, like, apparently snakes don't like to be watched while they eat?" He laughs. "But then we tried to put it in a sack with this-- I think it was a mouse? Or a rat, do snakes eat rats?"

"Um," says Isaac. "I think so?"

Scott shrugs. "Anyway, apparently that's supposed to work, but it didn't, like, what a lucky mouse, right?"

Isaac laughs. "What happened to the mouse?" he says. 

"It's still there in one of the cases," says Scott. "I named it Gus."

"Gus?" Isaac tilts his head. 

"Um." Scott flushes a bit. "From, like, Cinderella? The mouse is called Gus."

Isaac smiles his wide, abandoned smile. "Right," he says.

"So then we had to force feed the snake with like, this tube thing and real food. Or well, food that was already dead, you know. Not a mouse. It was pretty cool, dude."

"Yeah," says Isaac.

"You'll probably get to do it next time you're there," says Scott. "I could show you."

"Sure," says Isaac. "What's going to happen to Gus?"

"Oh." Scott flushes again. "I thought I could maybe take him home? I always wanted a pet." He shrugs.

Isaac laughs, and it's not mean or anything, it's just Isaac's laugh, his real one, which is kind of dorky and always uncertain-sounding, like he's never quite sure whether he _should_ be laughing, whether he's allowed, which is stupid because his laugh is awesome and he should do it all the time. Like, Scott wants to _make_ him laugh all the time. 

It's different than it is with, say, Stiles. Scott knows exactly how to make Stiles laugh, but he doesn't yet, with Isaac, and that's-- he likes it, how he gets to explore this thing and figure out exactly what makes him smile. 

"That's cool," says Isaac. "I think he-- he deserves a good home if he escaped from the snake. You could get him a wheel."

Scott blinks and swallows. That was-- wow, he hadn't thought about it like that at all, like, why would he, really? This stupid little mouse and-- and Isaac caught up in the aftermath of a weirdly similar shitty situation, but. Shit, he _hates_ how Isaac's voice goes all quiet like that sometimes, when he's remembering. 

"Aren't those for hamsters?" Scott brightens his tone deliberately and tilts his head. 

"Mice as well," says Isaac. 

"Oh. Cool." Scott grins at him. 

Isaac grins back and they both kind of trail into silence and listen-- mainly because it's pretty hard not to, with the raised voices and all-- to Derek and Peter arguing on the porch.

It's deteriorated a little, by the sounds of it, and that's like-- Scott thinks it's kind of hilarious that Peter gets under Derek's skin so much. Also kind of worrying, because fuck, he really, _really_ hopes Peter isn't planning another shitstorm like before the whole resurrection thing. Which Scott is still a bit fuzzy on, actually, come to think of it. He should ask Stiles to explain it again. Or maybe Isaac. 

Anyway, in this moment and the absence of any immediate danger it's definitely pretty funny. The only other person he knows who gets to Derek this much is Stiles, but it's different, partly because Stiles is nowhere near as dangerous or creepy as Peter, and partly because they're not _family_ , and those arguments are always soaked in this totally unmistakable tone. It reminds Scott a bit of the fights he has with his mom, sometimes, or Stiles and his dad. 

Except that, you know, they're not two former and current Alpha werewolves staging some kind of weird stand off for dominance, or whatever it is they're doing. 

Right now Derek's shouting something about, "You're not in charge anymore. You need to run things by me," and Peter responds evenly with, "Seriously? It's just two kids play fighting, what are you getting so worked up about?"

"You're being a _nuisance_ ," hisses Derek. 

"I'm _helping_ ," says Peter. 

"No, you're trying to _get to me_ ," says Derek.

"For God's sake, Derek, a bit of paranoia is healthy but you're starting to sound psychotic, you know that?"

Derek growls and shoves Peter into the wall of the house. "I'd agree with you except for how I'd be proven wrong eventually," he grits out. 

Peter rolls his eyes. "Come on, Derek, enough. Not in front of the children." 

Derek stays there a moment longer, probably frowning and making threatening faces at Peter, and then drops his arm and turns back to the clearing. 

"Oh look," says Peter, stepping after him. "They're bonding."

Derek glares at him and rolls his eyes at Scott and Isaac. "Get up," he snaps. 

Scott scrambles to his feet after Isaac. 

"Really, Derek," says Peter sweetly, "You shouldn't encourage animosity between two of your pack who are clearly very good friends." 

Derek says, "Scott's not pack. And they need to _learn_."

Peter shakes his head, all mock-sadness, at Derek, and Derek shoots him a glare in return. 

Scott catches Isaac mirroring his own minute eye-roll at the pair of them. 

"Well then," adds Peter, "If you _must_ do this, can I make a suggestion?"

Derek looks at him blankly.

Peter grins. "Stop trying to use brute strength," he continues. "Neither of you are ever going to be the strongest wolves out there. Surprise and trickery are your friends."

"You'd know," mutters Derek.

"I would," agrees Peter delightedly. 

Derek purses his lips but doesn't say anything, just nods at Scott and Isaac, all _go ahead, do what he says_ , so. They do.

It reminds Scott a lot of wrestling with Stiles when they were kids, like the stupid fun, all-out kind of stuff where it didn't really matter if you got kneed or elbowed or otherwise knocked about because it was your best friend and you knew they were never _really_ going to hurt you. It's probably an analogy that would piss Derek off, because they're supposed to be simulating an actual real-life fight or whatever, but he can't help it, this is _Isaac_ , and there are all these little threads tying them together, like, Scott can't pinpoint exactly what or why, but things that resonate _pack_ and _friend_ and _good_ , all these little fundamental, instinctive feelings that he can't just switch off. 

So he's just sort of trying to get a leg-up over Isaac and not be the first to cry mercy, and it's a drawn-out thing this time so that sort of works in his favour, because yeah, Isaac's bigger and stronger but Scott's been doing this longer than him, he knows this new werewolf body better than Isaac, and it's-- it's not something he can put into words either. He knows that because he's tried, Stiles isn't exactly one to leave up when he has a shiny new werewolf for a best friend, but he can't explain it, the whys or hows of the way he can anticipate things almost before they happen, the way his body just _knows_ how to respond, and gets better at it every time. 

Anyway, he does know that it's the reason he ends up pinning Isaac to the ground in the end, breathing hard and shifting back into human form and grinning triumphantly, and like, he's still _poised_ , because he knows Isaac won't give in that easily. 

He's waiting for the surge of force upwards, a kick or a twisted arm or something, but what actually happens is Isaac lurches up and-- and presses his mouth to Scott's. _Kisses_ him. It's not a long kiss, but it isn't a peck either, and Scott is obviously shocked dumb when Isaac pulls back, grinning his stupid, toothy grin, and he realises too late what Isaac's playing at, and the next thing he knows Isaac's rolling him easily, way too easily, onto his back, pinning his wrists above his head and declaring, "I win," breathlessly, cheeks flushed, happy. 

Scott just blinks at him stupidly. 

He vaguely registers Peter clapping, and Derek muttering, "I give up," long-sufferingly. 

Isaac holds him there for a moment before he climbs to his feet and holds out a hand to help Scott up.

"Are we done?" he asks, glancing at Peter. Derek is nowhere to be seen. 

"For now," says Peter. He looks impressed, and Scott-- well, he's still kind of wondering what the hell just happened, but he's also a little bit helplessly proud of Isaac.

 

Afterwards, Scott kind of can't stop thinking about it, about Isaac _kissing_ him.

He walks right into his mom on his way to his bedroom, and it's his _mom_ , so she narrows her eyes and stops him with a hand on his elbow and says, "What's wrong? I know that look."

"Nothing," he says. 

"Scott," she says, frowning.

"I'm fine, mom!" he insists a bit shrilly. "I'm just-- I'm just tired."

She lets go of his elbow. "Okay," she says. "But if you're still wearing that face next time I see you, we are having words, young man."

He sighs and says, "Fine," and escapes into his room. 

He sits there for ages on his bed, not really making much headway or sense of anything; it's just Isaac's happy, grinning face looming in his vision, and the soft, kind of rushed pressure of his lips every time he closes his eyes. 

Eventually he goes out to sit on the porch, because-- well, he's not really sure why. Maybe he needs the fresh air. It might be a wolf thing, he doesn't know. 

Stiles finds him there a couple of hours later, and sits vibrating next to him for maybe five minutes before he bursts out with, "Dude, what the hell is up with you? Please tell me so I can fix it for you, I do not need _another_ sour wolf in my life to deal with. One is more than enough, okay, _Derek_ is more than enough."

Scott frowns at his mom's favourite rosebush for a long time before he says, "I just have _feelings_."

Stiles sighs and when Scott looks over he's got that steeled-up look on his face that Scott remembers from every time he's talked about Allison, so he probably should clarify. 

"It's Isaac," he says, breathing out heavily. 

"What?" Stiles flails and steadies himself before he falls off the steps, only just, and then peers at him like he's some sort of experiment in chemistry class. He waits what is actually a pretty considerate amount of time, for Stiles, and then says, "…Well? Dude, I am intrigued, this is the first non-Allison related feelings problem you've mentioned in, well, _ever_. You can't leave me hanging, come on."

Scott sighs. "Derek asked me to help, like, practice with Isaac," he says.

"Practice?" says Stiles. "Practice what, dude, like, wolfy shit?"

"Fighting," says Scott. 

"I thought you didn't want to be part of his pack," says Stiles.

"I'm not," says Scott. "I just-- I don't mind _helping_ , you know, I don't want any of them to get hurt or anything."

"Okay, right, so helping, fighting, continue," says Stiles. 

"So we were fighting," says Scott, "And Peter was like-- "

"Peter was there?" interrupts Stiles.

"Well, yeah," says Scott. "He's part of the pack now. I think. I'm not sure. Anyway, Peter was like, telling us things to do, and then Isaac kind of-- he just-- kissed me."

Stiles stares at him. "Peter told Isaac to kiss you?" he says. 

" _No_ ," says Scott. "He told us to use tricks, I don't know, and Isaac kissed me and then won because I was like, _distracted_."

Stiles muffles a giggle in his sleeve. "Of course you were," he says seriously. 

"Shut up, dude, I was _surprised_ ," says Scott. "Like, what the hell, that's not-- it's-- " He stops and shakes his head. 

"Okay," says Stiles slowly. "So what, are you upset because Isaac used dirty tricks to beat you?"

"No," says Scott. "I just-- why am I _thinking_ about it so much? It was just stupid, wasn't it, like, he was just trying to win because I was winning, and."

"Um," says Stiles. 

"And I sort of-- I mean, I just-- I kind of-- liked it?" He blushes furiously and doesn't meet Stiles' eyes. "I mean, not-- it just wasn't _bad_ , you know, and now I-- I can't stop thinking about it." He shrugs. "And that's not-- it's not cool. I can't-- I'm supposed to be thinking about _Allison_. I _want_ to be thinking about Allison."

Stiles stares at him some more and then bursts out laughing. Scott frowns, but Stiles just keeps going, slightly hysterical, curling in on himself a little bit and trying to breathe. 

"Oh my God," says Stiles eventually. "Sorry, sorry, just. You're such-- your feelings are the weirdest, dude. Anyway." He makes a big show of putting on a serious face. "Isaac. Isaac, Isaac, Isaac." He stops talking and just sits there for a while, thinking.

Scott fidgets, trying to be patient because clearly of the pair of him that's his forte. It probably wouldn't be with anyone other than Stiles, but. 

"Dude," he says when he can't take it anymore. "Well, is there a plan? Do you have advice?"

Stiles hums and says, "You like him, right?"

"What?" says Scott. "Like, what? In what way?"

Stiles waves a hand and says, "Just as a dude. A general dude. A friend. You think he's cool, right? You like hanging out with him? You enjoy his company?"

Scott says, "Yeah," blankly. What does that have to do with anything?

Stiles says, "Hmm."

"You're not really helping, dude," says Scott.

"Shut up, I'm thinking," says Stiles.

Scott sighs and shuts up.

Eventually Stiles snaps his fingers and says, "I think this could work."

"What?" says Scott. "What could work?"

"You and Isaac," says Stiles.

Scott splutters. That's-- that's totally not the issue here, the issue is his _feelings_ in the first place, the fact that they're _wrong_ , like, aren't they? He shouldn't be having them, doesn't want to be having them about Isaac, at least not like this, and like. Allison. _Allison._

"No," he says after a moment. "Dude, that's not-- that's not the problem. It's probably just-- I mean, it was just a kiss, it doesn't mean I want to, like, date Isaac or anything. It's just-- it's been too long since I got laid. Or made out with anyone. That's-- that's all."

Stiles makes a weird face and slaps him consolingly on the shoulder. "Okay, buddy," he says. "If that's what you think, I'm not going to argue. You guys would be cute though, you gotta admit."

"I-- shut up," says Scott immediately.

Stiles grins and groans to his feet. "I have to go," he says. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"I never do anything stupid," says Scott.

Stiles laughs all the way to his Jeep.

 

He dreams about Isaac that night. It's not one of those awful, vivid dreams that he wakes up from terrified it was actually _real_ , and objectively it's-- well, it's a really nice dream, but it still freaks him out a bit because it's about _Isaac_ , and that's. That's never happened to him before. 

He knows it's not real because in his dream it's daytime, all bright sunshine and yellow-green leaves, and it's just snatches of Isaac's face, grinning at him between trees and chasing in the woods.

He wakes up feeling stupidly warm and satisfied, and it's a minute before he even remembers to freak out.

 

They both have work at the clinic that morning. 

There's the strongest sense of déjà vu when he walks in and Isaac's already there, bent over a cat sleeping in a basket beneath the window. (Scott has no idea how Isaac's managed to overcome whatever weird werewolf sense cats seem to have. Even Derek was baffled when it came up one time.) He's just-- his hair kind of looks like it's glowing in the pool of sunlight cast in weird shapes from the trees outside, and there's this strange, permeating aura of gentleness in the way he's got his gangly limbs held so carefully, like he knows his own strength and is trying to tuck it carefully all away here. 

Scott would probably have stood there watching like a weirdo if, well, Isaac wasn't a werewolf and could hear him coming a mile away, and also the cat wakes up and hisses across the room at Scott, so. 

Isaac turns to him, grinning. "Hi," he says. 

"Hey," says Scott. He looks at the cat and shakes his head. "You know that's not normal, right? Like, it's totally cool, but _weird_."

"I know," says Isaac. He looks pretty happy about it. "Jealous?"

Scott shrugs but looks kind of wistfully at the cat. 

"Maybe she'll get used to you," says Isaac. 

"Yeah, I doubt it," says Scott. 

"Me too." Isaac smirks at him. 

"Shut up." Scott throws a stray latex glove at him and sets his bag down under the counter. Then he-- well, he kind of remembers the whole-- the whole _kissing_ thing, and suddenly for the life of him can't remember what they usually, like, do. What they _talk_ about in all the time they spend together here. He casts about desperately for a topic and feels kind of like a genius when he remembers something from yesterday. You know, apart from the-- that. "Hey," he says. "So what was up with, like, Erica and everyone yesterday?"

"Oh." Isaac shakes his head and smiles ruefully. "Derek tried to get Erica and Boyd to practice fighting, you know, like we did, but then he got pissed because Boyd wasn't trying hard enough-- like, he didn't want to hurt Erica, I don't think-- and then Erica started yelling at Derek, because she didn't want to fight Boyd either, and then Derek tried to get them both to fight me."

"And?" Scott grins, raising an eyebrow. 

"They both wouldn't do it, like, Erica threatened me when I tried to fight Boyd and Boyd looked like he was going to kill me when I tried to fight Erica, so. That didn't work out so well."

Scott laughs. "Was Peter there?" he asks.

Isaac nods, fiddling with the bandaging on the cat's front left paw. She's still eyeing Scott suspiciously and hissing quietly at intervals. Scott makes a face at her. "Yeah, but he wasn't really saying anything, and Derek got pissed at him for not helping." He tilts his head. "Or like, trying to cause trouble by not helping? I'm not really sure, with those two."

"Yeah," says Scott. "What about Jackson?"

Isaac shrugs. "He was being weird about Derek telling him what to do, I think."

"Wow," says Scott. "Sounds like Derek's having a lot of fun up there."

"Isn't he always?" says Isaac, smiling. "But, it-- it'll work out, I think. We just-- we just need to get used to it, you know?" He looks at Scott kind of weirdly, and Scott feels strange, almost like he's letting Isaac down, or something. He can't-- it's not about Isaac though, the whole pack thing. It's about Derek, and. He still doesn't want that. 

There's a silence. "Hey," says Isaac eventually. "I asked Deaton about, about Gus."

Scott blinks. "What about him?" he says.

Isaac rolls his eyes. "If you could keep him, moron," he says. 

"Oh," says Scott. He meant to tell Isaac to shut up, or something, but instead he grins, huge and stupid and helpless. "I-- really? What did he say?"

"It's fine," says Isaac. "I mean, I don't think it's a big deal, it's just a mouse."

"Shut up, it's _Gus_ ," says Scott, grinning even wider. 

Isaac grins back, that one he can't seem to really control, all teeth and too big for his face. "I can help you get set up, after work, if you want," he says. 

"What, like, at my house?" says Scott.

Isaac doesn't say it, but he gives Scott a pretty clear _yes, you idiot_ look. 

"Oh," says Scott. "Yeah, that'd be awesome, thanks."

Isaac nods and ducks his head to check the cat's bandages again, even though he just did it like, two minutes ago.

 

They take Gus in a cardboard box with airholes punched into it and drive to a pet store to buy a proper cage and food and stuff. 

"Hey," says Scott, watching Isaac frown over the selection of exercise wheels, "I-- thanks. You didn't have to come, you know."

"I know," says Isaac. "But it's cool. Like-- normal, you know?"

"Yeah," says Scott quietly, and wonders what it must be like, Isaac who's never really known what _normal_ is, not like Scott did before he got bitten. 

Or well, normal is relative, as Stiles likes to tell him all the time, but that's-- he's pretty sure Isaac's never thought anything about his life was normal in the kind of way it should be. 

"Plus I feel like you need supervision," says Isaac, smirking at him through his hair. 

Scott elbows him, grinning, and doesn't say anything. 

 

Isaac looks curiously around his room when they stumble in with both sets of arms full.

Scott realises with a weird sort of wrench that Isaac's never been to his place before. 

"Um," he says, dumping his armful of things on the bed. "It's-- I mean, I haven't cleaned lately."

"I can see that." Isaac gives him a shit-eating grin and sets his packages down more carefully because of how there's a live mouse in one of them. "You play guitar?" He looks Scott up and down like he's trying to make sense of that.

Scott folds his arms defensively. "Yeah," he says, sticking his chin out. 

Isaac laughs. "Okay," he says. 

"I don't really have much time for it now," says Scott. 

"Yeah," says Isaac. He's running his fingers over the frets of Scott's electric. Scott zeroes in on them without meaning to, the way they're so long and thin, the way they dip in and out of the fractured light seeping through the curtains. 

"Um," he says, shaking his head. "I-- where should we put the cage and stuff?"

"It's your room," says Isaac, shrugging and looking up. 

"The desk?" says Scott. 

"Sure," says Isaac. "Move your crap."

Scott moves it mainly by throwing it at Isaac, who grins lightning-fast and catches everything just as quick.

"You should play in goal," says Scott, when there's a substantial enough space clear on his desk. 

"But I like knocking people down," says Isaac. 

Scott shrugs. "Didn't stop me when I played in goal," he says. 

"Oh yeah," says Isaac, smirking. "That was about me, right?"

"Maybe," says Scott, looking away.

Isaac laughs. "I think it's your subtlety I admire most," he says thoughtfully.

"Hey, do I have to prove I can be subtle again?" says Scott.

Isaac tilts his head. "No," he says after a moment.

"Good." Scott points at him. "Get the cage."

Isaac rolls his eyes but does, setting it onto the desk and then lifting Gus into it with big, carefully cupped-over hands. 

"Sweet," says Scott. 

"Don't forget to feed him," says Isaac. "And like, animals need water, too."

"I work at a _vet clinic_ ," says Scott. 

Isaac just smirks at him some more.

Scott rolls his eyes this time and then says, "Hey, you wanna play Mario Kart?"

Isaac blinks. "I," he says, "I've never played."

"What?" Scott gapes, genuinely shocked. "Seriously?"

Isaac shrugs. "My dad," he explains. "I-- he wouldn't let me. And now, well, Derek doesn't even have a TV."

Scott swallows. He feels so out of his depth sometimes, with all these people, like, he thought it was bad for him, when he first got bitten, but that was-- Derek _chose_ Isaac and Erica and Boyd because they were all messed-up, in one way or another, and they wanted things to be _different_ , they wanted to be stronger, and Scott realises he has nothing on them, in terms of hardship, and furthermore nothing he can bring to them to help or relate or-- or anything. 

"Well, I have a TV," he says in the end. "So come on. I'll teach you."

 

They kind of lose track of time. Isaac turns out to be freakishly good at the game and Scott gets a bit caught up in trying to _beat_ him, which only actually works about fifty per cent of the time. 

They're still sitting there-- or well, in a loose approximation of 'sitting;' more like trying to elbow each other into distraction without taking their hands off the controls-- when Scott's mom gets home from work. 

"Hi," she says, smiling kind of curiously and setting her bags by the door. 

"Hey, mom," says Scott. They both turn to look at her. "You remember Isaac, right?" He makes a _don't mention anything weird_ face at her behind Isaac's back. 

"Sure," says his mom. "You're on the team, right?"

Scott loves his mom.

"Yeah," says Isaac, smiling hesitantly. "Um, nice to meet you, Mrs McCall."

"Melissa," says his mom, rolling her eyes. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Oh," says Isaac. "Um, no, I should probably get back to-- get-- get home."

He says it in this weird tone, like, Scott wonders whether it really feels like home to him, yet. 

"You sure?" he says, as his mom heads into the kitchen. 

"Yeah," says Isaac. He runs a hand through his hair. "Thanks for-- for letting me stay."

"No problem," says Scott. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah, I guess," says Isaac. 

"Cool." Scott nods firmly and follows him to the door. "Hey," he adds, as they step out onto the porch. "Just-- just come over, yeah, if things get weird or, or whatever, with Derek and everything."

"I can handle it," says Isaac.

"I know," says Scott. He's not lying. "But dude, trust me, I know how freaking annoying they can get sometimes."

"You're not annoying?" Isaac raises an eyebrow but he's kind of half smiling. 

"Yeah, I'm about exactly as bad as Derek and Peter put together," he says, rolling his eyes.

That gets a laugh out of Isaac. "Okay, point taken," he says. "I'll-- yeah."

"Cool," says Scott. "I'll tell Gus you said bye."

Isaac shakes his head, but Scott catches his grin, white and wide, as he disappears into the night.

 

Scott finds himself heading out to the Hale place a lot over the next few weeks, just to hang out with Isaac.

Derek gives him this weird, kind of angry look every time he turns up, and Peter watches him, assessing, but no one says anything and Scott ignores them both because he can't-- he can't think about that right now, this whole pack thing, this weird dynamic they have going on. Derek's face when he'd told him, "You're not my Alpha," is kind of hard to get out of his head anyway, and he doesn't like feeling this way, off-balance and unsure, but he's sure, at least, that he's not ready for whatever being a locked-in part of this means, not yet, not right now. 

The thing is, he doesn't trust Derek unconditionally enough for it to work, at least not at this stage, and definitely not with Peter around. It's just all too unclear.

Plus he needs to focus on other things, on not failing his classes and making sure his mom is okay and-- and Isaac. Not Isaac as part of anything else, either, as a link to anyone else or part of some bigger plan, but just _him_ as like, a person, as himself, nothing more or less. Scott feels like that's important.

Isaac gives him kind of strange looks too, sometimes, not the same as Derek, not even close, but almost like he's surprised, like he doesn't know what the hell Scott is doing or why he keeps coming back, which. Well, Scott keeps coming back partly because he wants Isaac to lose that, to expect people to want to hang out with him just because. 

He-- he _should_ expect that. Scott's fists clench and his claws extend without him realising every time he thinks about it. 

He brings his homework with him most days, because he wants to hang out with Isaac but he also wants to pass his classes, and Isaac watches him curiously while he struggles through it and occasionally offers to help. It's kind of nice, just sitting there in the room Isaac's chosen for himself, bare apart from a mattress tucked into the corner. There's a super-nice view though, looking out over the back of the house, the woods. It catches the afternoon sun perfectly, and more than once Scott finds his mind drifting away from his homework-- which, it's not hard, really-- and contemplating Isaac instead. 

The thing is, he just-- Scott _likes_ looking at Isaac, and if he's being totally honest with himself, he always has. 

He likes to watch him when they're both working at the clinic or hanging outside the Hale place in the leafy, orange afternoons, because Isaac's just-- he can't get over the way he looks, like, it's so different from Allison, he's all too-long limbs and bones that don't quite fit and awkward, unexpected smiles, and the way the light touches his hair is kind of fascinating, all those curls and yellow motes of light. Then there's also-- Scott can't exactly put it into words but he's just, as a person Isaac is exactly the way he looks: he's a little bit awkward and a lot hilarious, sarcastic and razor-sharp but also so, so gentle underneath it all. 

It makes Scott angry, knowing what Isaac's gone through. He just, he wonders how anyone could ever want to hurt this kid, with his smile and his-- his everything.

He's already better with the animals at the clinic than Scott has ever been, and with Scott too, he's-- Scott feels kind of like an animal around him, maybe, skittish and uncertain but so drawn to him, like deep down in his bones, it's just this easy thing, this natural thing, like _pack_ but more. 

Which-- well, shit. He probably needs to, he doesn't even know, talk some more to Stiles about this or something.

He just feels like maybe-- maybe this could be a good thing for Isaac, this life he has now, if everything pans out okay, if nothing else goes wrong, because it's-- he looks kind of _right_ like this, haloed in sunshine and smiling like he's always surprised by it. 

Surprised and just _happy_.

Scott's not sure exactly where he fits into that yet, not sure where he _wants_ to fit in, and that's. That's something he really needs to sort out.

 

Stiles corners Scott outside his house about three weeks after the whole kissing thing, and waves his keys threateningly in Scott's face.

"What the hell, dude," he says. "I never see you anymore. Have you found a new best friend or something? Because I will kill them, I may not be able to wolf out but dumping Stiles is not okay."

Scott rolls his eyes and says, "Of course not, idiot." He sits down with Stiles on the porch steps and adds, "I'm just trying to figure out this-- this Isaac thing, you know?" 

"I thought you just needed to get laid," says Stiles, smirking like he knows that was never really true, which, well, he probably does. 

Scott sighs. "I just-- I don't know what I want. I don't know anything. Is it-- does this mean I'm over Allison? Do I-- do I even _like_ Isaac like that? I really like him, dude, but I-- " He shakes his head and trails off.

Stiles bites down on his lip. "Look, dude," he says. "I am probably the last person you should be looking for advice from, I mean, hello, never even had a girlfriend, or-- but I don't know, I mean, I guess I saw everything that happened with you and Allison, and I have like, an outside perspective, if that helps."

"Yeah," says Scott. "I mean-- and? What do you think?"

"You just," says Stiles, "You guys were so intense, man, it was crazy. Like, kind of vital? Or like, it seemed like it was to you. And it wasn't exactly easy either, was it." He shrugs. "I guess-- does it feel like that with Isaac?"

Scott blinks and thinks about it. It's like-- it's no less vital, he doesn't think, not with how he wants so desperately for everything to be good for Isaac all the time, how he wants to fix things for him if he can and especially if he can't, but it's different, sort of like-- it's also just easy, kind of quiet and a little bit achy but not-- not bad. "I," he says. He has no idea how to translate any of that into actual words. "It's still-- it still feels really important. I want-- I want-- I-- " He cuts himself off, frustrated, and slams his fist into the step.

"Okay," says Stiles. "So you, you really care, obviously. That's-- fuck, I don't know, dude, I think-- I think if it feels good then go for it, you know? If it feels important."

Scott frowns and says, "But I still care about Allison."

Stiles says, "I still care about Lydia, dude, and like, I'm always going to, that's not gonna go away ever."

"But aren't you-- don't you think you might still have a chance with her?" Scott glances at him.

Stiles looks off into the distance for a long time, and eventually says, quietly, breathing out, "Nah. That's-- she's happy with Jackson, you know? She _loves_ him and that's-- that's good."

He doesn't look happy, exactly, but he looks kind of content, in this weird, bittersweet sort of way.

Scott doesn't know what to say to that. Like, it's weird because it makes so much sense, and he's not sure why he hasn't thought about it like this before. It doesn't have to be so hard, right? If he doesn't want it to then maybe it just-- won't be. Although obviously it's taken Stiles a while to get to that place but maybe-- maybe Scott's already passed it and he just didn't realise.

It's a scary but kind of distantly hopeful thought. Like, maybe this guilt and uncertainty is really, now, just some leftover thing, like-- like phantom pains in an amputated limb.

It's always going to hurt, sometimes, and he can't ever forget that it was there, but he can't stand still and pretend it still is, either.

He needs to-- he needs to think about that, let it ferment a bit, maybe. 

"Hey," he says, laying a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "You're okay, dude."

Stiles breathes in deeply and then looks over at him, quirking a smile. "Yeah," he says. "I am."

It's probably a weird definition of okay, really, considering everything that's happened, but when it comes down to it they've all come out of this alive, and there's this-- this visceral sense of hope poking at the edge of everything, like maybe things are starting to get better. Easier.

 

The next time Scott drops by the Hale place to see Isaac he just feels _good_. Things are starting to get a bit clearer and also he got a B- on his chemistry test, which is almost up in Stiles levels of smart.

Not quite, but you know. It's pretty damn good. 

Isaac looks up from where he's mending his lacrosse stick on the porch and meets Scott's grin.

"Hey," he says. "Good day?"

"Yeah," says Scott, stretching his legs out along the declining steps and tipping his head back to catch the afternoon sun on his face. 

"You wanna elaborate?" says Isaac eventually. 

"Huh?" says Scott. "Oh, just. I got a B- on my chemistry test, and like, I don't know, I just-- things are _good_ , you know?"

"Yeah," says Isaac, nodding. 

"Is-- " Scott sits up a little straighter. "Is everything good here?"

"Pretty good," says Isaac. "You know, apart from the never-ending whatever the hell is going on with Derek and Peter. Mostly Peter's just been decorating though, so that's-- interesting."

"Yeah?" Scott laughs. "Is he as bad as my mom, do you think?"

"Worse," says Isaac without any hesitation at all. 

"Seriously?" Scott grins. 

"He has-- " Isaac tilts his head. "Weird ideas about furniture. Boyd suggested Ikea the other day and Peter made him run laps around the house for two hours as punishment."

"Derek was okay with that?" says Scott, surprised.

Isaac shrugs. "He said it was good for his control."

"Oh my God," says Scott, laughing helplessly. "You're like, living in an episode of Home Improvement or something."

Isaac smiles slowly. "Yeah," he says after a moment. He doesn't sound like he minds too much.

 

One thing Scott's noticed about Isaac is that he doesn't usually say anything important unless he's doing something else at the same time. 

Like he needs some kind of shield or something. It's unconscious, ingrained, Scott thinks, like a lot of little things about him that make Scott so helplessly furious. 

They're at the clinic one time scrubbing out some of the recently empty cages, and they're working in pretty companionable silence until Isaac says, not looking up, "Hey, what's your anchor?"

Scott blinks. He glances over at Isaac, but he's still scrubbing all concentrated at one particularly stubborn spot. "Allison," Scott says, and then bites down on his lip, because, well.

He hasn't thought about her in this particular context, his anchor, and whether that's changed now. There hasn't really been a proper opportunity to test it. 

Isaac nods. "Mine's my dad," he says. 

He doesn't offer anything else, and Scott doesn't know what to say at all, doesn't know what Isaac _wants_ him to say. 

He knows how powerful an anchor like that can be-- Derek's anger is the best example he can think of-- but it must also suck, having to draw on something like _that_ every time. 

Isaac's maybe thinking along the same lines, because he says, after a long silence, "I don't-- do you think it can change?"

"What," says Scott, "Your anchor?"

Isaac just nods. 

"I hope so," says Scott; weirdly, baldly honest, even to himself. 

When he looks over again Isaac looks kind of curious, so Scott shrugs and adds, "Allison, you know, I don't-- we're not-- I mean, what happens if that-- that feeling changes?"

Isaac looks thoughtful. "Yeah," he says. It sounds a little bit hopeful, too.

"I think it can," says Scott eventually, just kind of talking as the thoughts sort themselves out in his head. "If you want it to badly enough. If you, like, _feel_ it enough. That's all-- that's all it's about, right? You just have to find something that feels the same. Or maybe not the same, but-- but just as strong."

"Yeah," says Isaac quietly. 

"Hey," says Scott, after a suspiciously loaded silence. "Are you-- are you okay?"

Isaac sniffs and looks up, looks over to meet his eyes for the first time since he started talking. His eyes are shiny, a bit wet, and. "I'm fine," he says, smiling sort of determinedly. 

Scott nods and feels so, so out of his depth. 

"I just," says Isaac loudly, unexpectedly, "I don't _want_ to keep thinking about him."

Scott is quiet for a long moment. Like, fuck, he is so not equipped to deal with this at all. 

Eventually he says, swallowing, "Does it-- does it not help at all? I mean, thinking about him and-- and having all that control? Like, you're so powerful now, dude, and." He shrugs.

Isaac looks like he's thinking about it. "It did at first," he says. "But I don't want it to be him, anymore. I want it to be me."

Scott says, "You know it-- it still is, right? It's-- this is all you. You're-- you're good," he finishes lamely.

Isaac gives him a kind of watery smile and rolls his eyes. "I'm gonna find something," he says. "Something else. Something that's _mine_ and-- and good."

"I know," says Scott quietly, and he does, then, all the way through to his core he _knows_ that Isaac is going to be okay, and things won't ever be as hard for him as they have been. Partly because Isaac's just doing so great all on his own, and partly because even if he weren't, Scott wouldn't _let_ that happen.

He wants to-- he doesn't even know, reach over and put a hand on him, or hug him, more than he ever has before, but he keeps scrubbing instead, lets the words and the certainty ring into the stillness and hopefully, hopefully do something to comfort Isaac, to make him sure.

 

Derek's stopped chaining up his pack on the full moons. 

Scott knows this because he can _hear_ them, when he's shaking in his room with the window open, he can hear the howls as Derek and Peter chaperone them through the woods, running wild. 

It's-- it doesn't make things easier at all, knowing they're all out there. The wolf in him wants to be out there too, wants its pack and its freedom. 

It's harder like this to remember why he doesn't want to be part of Derek's pack, because that choice is all human, and that reality is always furthest away on the full moon. 

It's harder too because, well, the anchor thing is more tenuous now, and thinking about Allison still helps, it turns out, but nowhere near as much as it used to. 

He sits on the floor next to his bed with his knees pulled to his chest like that'll help hold the wolf inside him. 

He can feel the shift itching under his skin each time a howl echoes through his open window, and it's-- he doesn't know if he should try to block it out, or, or. 

In the end he tries to focus, tries to distract himself (and hopefully the wolf too) by trying to recognise the different members of the pack. 

It's actually not that hard, it turns out, he can pick out Erica and Boyd and-- and _Isaac_ , and wow, that's. There's this pull from somewhere deep in his gut, this _ache_ to be out there running with him, stronger even than the instinctive need for pack or freedom, but it's also-- it's Isaac's face: the odd cadence of his voice and his smirks; his less calculated, uncontrollable smiles; the quiet, gentle afternoons in his room and his over-the-top aggression on the lacrosse field, and Scott finds that he can breathe a bit easier, can stop feeling like he _needs_ to tear this human skin off of himself, and in the end he's okay sitting there, still shaking with some deep-down, irremovable need, but he's okay thinking about Isaac running out there for him, the wind in his face and his wide grin.

 

He goes to the Hale place the next morning, because it's a Sunday and it's the day after the full moon, and because after last night he just wants to see Isaac again as soon as possible. 

It dawns bright and kind of wet, thin clouds and morning drizzle that probably won't last until noon, and the house is quiet when he arrives. He thinks he goes mostly unnoticed as he sneaks up the stairs, or at least until Peter says, "Morning, Scott," from wherever it is he sleeps or hangs out to do his private scheming, and Derek kind of growls and says, "Shut up," to both of them. 

Scott rolls his eyes and ducks into Isaac's room before either of them can actually make an appearance. 

Isaac's asleep, sprawled out face-down on his mattress, arms and legs twisted at odd angles and his hair obscuring most of his face. He looks kind of-- kind of sated, and it makes Scott swallow and itch to both touch him and keep watching him silently at the same time. 

In the end he clears his throat and Isaac twitches, rolling onto his back and blinking sleepily at Scott.

"What," he says, voice sleep-thick. He clears his throat and starts again. "What are you doing here?"

"Morning, sunshine," says Scott, grinning.

Isaac rolls his eyes and sits up, pushing his tangled curls off of his forehead. "Shut up and answer the question," he says. 

Scott shrugs and rolls his shoulders restlessly. "I thought I might go for a run," he says. "You wanna come?"

Isaac pushes his covers off with a groan. 

"Or, I don't know, if you're too tired-- "

"I'm fine," says Isaac. He heaves himself to his feet and gives Scott an assessing look. "You heard us last night, huh?"

"Yeah," says Scott, kind of apologetically. 

He's half expecting Isaac to say something scathing, something about pack and the difference between being in or out, about not being able to have the best of both worlds, because Scott knows, he _knows_ he's skating a weird line here, but maybe Isaac realises that too, because he just says, "Okay," and strips his t-shirt off, bending down to pick a new one from the pile beneath the window. 

Scott stares. Isaac's back is pale and mottled in the white morning light, and even with all his lean muscles the knobs of his spine still strain through the skin. 

He's just so _long_ , this endless stretch that Scott kind of wants to get his hands on, and. He's saying something, huh. 

"What?" says Scott dumbly. 

Isaac emerges from the neck of his new shirt and repeats, "If you think you can keep up, loser."

"Of course I can," says Scott, bristling.

Then he grins, and Isaac matches it, pushes past him to get to the stairs and race him down before they sprint out into the trees.

 

It's the most satisfyingly exhilarated Scott's felt in a long time. Isaac doesn't pull his punches here like he doesn't anywhere else either, he runs and runs and _runs_ , and Scott's lungs burn partly from trying to keep up and partly from something else, something that makes him feel stupid and giddy and off-balance, and a little terrified too, but no less awesome. 

"Oh my God," he pants as they skid to a halt on the outskirts of the woods. "That's-- you-- fuck." He stretches upwards and tilts his head back to like, get maximum oxygen back into him. It's not like it was before he got bitten, obviously, it's not this aching, desperate need to breathe, more like a kind of pit-stop, a respite to fuel up just so he can keep going. 

It's a pretty powerful feeling; he's still not really over it. 

Scott wonders if Isaac appreciates it as much as he does. Probably more, he thinks. 

Isaac watches him, grinning with all his teeth. "I told you," he says. "I only come out to win."

Scott rolls his eyes. "Race you back?" He smirks. 

Isaac doesn't even answer, just takes off back into the trees. Scott laughs out a curse and lurches after him, eyes locked on the ducked-over, slightly awkward arch of Isaac's neck as he runs.

 

When they make it back to stretch out on the front steps of the Hale place, there's shouting coming from upstairs. Isaac rolls his eyes.

"What's that about?" says Scott, too lazy to listen in properly. 

"Peter's been trying to convince Derek to let him decorate his room for like, a week now," says Isaac.

Scott bursts out laughing. "Seriously?" he says, sitting up on his elbows.

Isaac smiles kind of ruefully. "Yeah," he says. "It's-- the decorating thing, I mean." He shrugs. "At least he's not doing anything else, you know? From what you guys said, it could probably be a lot worse."

"Hey," says Scott. "The decorating could be part of his, like, _plan_. Who knows."

Isaac raises a _you're an idiot_ eyebrow at him. Possibly Stiles is starting to rub off a bit too much on Scott. 

"Shut up." Scott laughs. "Has he got to your room yet?"

Isaac shakes his head. "I think he's putting all his energy into Derek for now," he says. 

"Are you gonna, like, fight him on it too?" says Scott curiously.

"I don't think so," says Isaac. "I don't really care, as long as I have a room, you know? Plus if it sucks I'll just change it later."

"Good luck with that," says Scott. 

"Hey, just 'cause you're too scared to stand up to him," says Isaac. 

"You didn't see him when he was the Alpha, okay," says Scott. "That stuff is kind of hard to forget."

Isaac shrugs, but he says, "Yeah," and leaves it at that. 

 

When Scott gets to the clinic for his shift after school on a Wednesday, everything is kind of tense.

"Hey," he says, heading into the exam room, where Deaton and Isaac are bent over something. "What's happening?"

"Kittens," says Isaac without looking up. 

"Um, what?" says Scott.

"We're delivering kittens," says Deaton. He looks apologetic but adds, "If you could stand back, Scott, we need the mother to be comfortable."

"Oh," says Scott, frowning. "Yeah, right, sorry. Do I-- do I have to leave the room?"

"The doorway should be sufficient," says Deaton. "If you'd like to watch."

Scott really kind of would, so. He backs up and just hovers uselessly in the doorway while Isaac, the lucky asshole, gets to help deliver a litter of disgustingly adorable kittens. 

It's fascinating, both the actual delivery and Isaac's face, which is-- God, he just looks so _awed_ , doing whatever Deaton says without question and cradling these tiny little things in his big hands. 

He glances over at Scott once they're done, wiping his forearm across his eyes, and looks thoughtful before he picks up one of the kittens and walks over to him. 

Scott takes a stumbling step backwards. "No, dude," he says, "It's-- it'll freak out, come on, it's just been born, that's not fair."

Isaac keeps coming though, and says, "Seriously, just come here."

Scott pulls his lips between his teeth but approaches slowly. The kitten writhes uncomfortably in Isaac's hands, and Scott says, "See, I told you," stopping in his tracks.

"Just." Isaac shakes his head. "Just talk to her."

Scott gives him a dubious look.

Isaac says, "It's like-- dogs and cats aren't supposed to get along, right, but that's not always true, you just need to-- they just need to realise you're not going to hurt them." He kind of holds the kitten closer to Scott and his face is all earnest and serious and hopeful, and well fuck, obviously now Scott has to _try_ , because-- because it's Isaac and when he looks like that Scott doesn't think he could ever turn him down.

So he reaches out and runs a finger between the kitten's ears and breathes, "I'm not going to hurt you," and it makes this noise, it sounds kind of distressed to Scott but Isaac whispers, "Don't stop," so he doesn't, and it's-- it _works_ , like, eventually the kitten settles down all quiet and Scott's still _touching_ her and that's-- that's kind of mind-blowingly cool. 

Isaac looks up at him, head still ducked, and just _smiles_ , and Scott smiles back helplessly, and then-- then Isaac just leans across over the kitten and presses their mouths together, like-- like the first time but softer, kind of, like a question instead of a challenge or a whim. 

"I," says Scott when Isaac pulls back. He can hear his own heartbeat, it's so _loud_ , so he knows Isaac can hear it too, and that's-- he hopes that says something, something good, because he's not sure he knows how to use words properly in this whole situation, but he feels like he should try. "Um, Isaac, I-- you know how you-- you kissed me, last time, and I-- I've been thinking about that, and-- this is, I mean, I kind of-- I really like you, and-- "

"Oh my God, you dumbass," says Isaac, rolling his eyes and breaking out in that huge, abandoned grin of his, already leaning in again. "Shut _up_." When he kisses Scott this time it's-- it's not quite as hesitant, even though he keeps it careful, probably because he's still holding this newborn kitten, which. 

"Um," says Scott, pulling back a bit, but not far enough that Isaac would get the wrong idea. "You maybe wanna put the kitten down?"

Isaac smirks at him, and fuck, that's kind of hot, especially this close up.

He does though, moving over to settle it gently with the others, and then he herds Scott into the storeroom, which is actually a super awesome idea, like, Deaton probably won't interrupt them here. 

Not that Scott thinks he would; the dude has some freaky senses on him. 

Scott ends up with his back against one of the shelves, anyway, and Isaac pressing in close, neck bent in his stupid, awkward, _Isaac_ way so their eyes are level, and he smiles kind of heartwrenchingly sweet, like, it's almost surprised, _still_ , that-- Scott doesn't even know-- that they're here and this is happening or something. "Hi," he says.

"Hi," says Scott, and reaches up to curl a hand around the back of Isaac's neck and reel him in.

When there's no one watching or nothing between them Isaac kisses differently; it's just-- it's kind of like he just throws himself into it completely. 

It's frantic and messy and fast, all spit and teeth and tongues, and it's just-- Scott's never been kissed like this, never kissed like this, but fuck, he _likes_ it, he likes the way Isaac's hands come up to curl over the sides of his neck, shoulders hunched slightly, and the way his whole body, which is bigger and heavier than Scott's, is pressing into his. 

It's an entirely new feeling and it's so _good_ , like, he wouldn't have thought anything could be better than Allison but this is-- well, he doesn't even want to compare them, that's not fair, Allison was Allison and Isaac is Isaac and they're both awesome in totally different ways. 

He's finally realising this, since his last talk with Stiles: that they're separate and distinct and wanting Isaac so bad now doesn't devalue how much he wanted Allison then. That he can just enjoy this and it's okay, it's so great, because he wants Isaac and now he's got him and he can sink into how good it is without trying to hold onto the past, because that's already happened and letting go of it, moving on, isn't the same as erasing it or pretending it never happened, or mattered, at all. Isaac is new and fascinating and entirely unique, and not connected to his feelings about Allison. Scott gets to discover all of this with a clear conscience and just-- just so looking forward to it, no more guilt or uncertainty or worrying.

Like right now, he can't stop zeroing in on the stretch in his neck as he strains upwards into the kiss, the flat lines and bones of Isaac, the way his lips are chapped and bitten instead of smooth and slick, the way he shivers and tries to press closer still when Scott gets his hands under his shirt and skims his fingers over those knobs in his spine. 

Isaac is kind of clumsy about the whole thing, but there's so much enthusiasm and _want_ , and Scott can't say he's any better-- he wants to put his hands everywhere, wants to bite Isaac's mouth open wider, wants to get his clothes off and put his mouth on his chest, the back of his neck, the sharp line of his jaw. 

"Shit," he says into Isaac's mouth. 

Isaac hums and just keeps on kissing him, which Scott is totally on board with. 

It's-- they're at work though, he remembers eventually, and they should probably stop before this gets completely out of hand. He doesn't know about Isaac, but Scott's nearly at that point already.

"Isaac," he whispers, sliding his mouth away, even if it is only far enough to cover the hinge of his jaw.

"Yeah," says Isaac. "We should stop."

"Fuck," says Scott, laughing. 

When he leans back Isaac's grinning, and he says, "Later, yeah?"

" _Hell_ yeah," says Scott.

Isaac's grin fades into a smirk and he steps away to head back out into the clinic.

"Hey, wait." Scott lunges out and catches one of Isaac's wrists.

Isaac turns back to him, eyebrows raised.

"Um, just. This is-- we're dating now, right?"

"I didn't ask you out," Isaac points out, although it's not-- it doesn't seem like he's shutting Scott down.

"Yeah, well." Scott shrugs. "I'm asking you out, so."

Isaac bites down on his lip. "No flowers," he says after a moment. "And don't ever try to cook for me."

"Hey, what do you know, I could be great at cooking." Scott grins kind of giddily. 

Isaac just looks at him.

"Yeah, okay." Scott laughs. "What if my mom cooks and you come over for dinner though?" He says it jokingly, but it feels kind of huge; his heart is hammering in his chest and his palms feel a bit sweaty. He's still not a hundred per cent sure Isaac wants the same thing here. Seventy per cent, maybe.

Isaac tilts his head, considering. "Okay," he says eventually.

"Yeah?" Scott's grin slips out without his permission, huge and probably really stupid-looking.

"Yeah." Isaac smiles back, and it's smaller, but no less happy.

Scott bumps his shoulder on their way out of the storeroom, and it's just-- obviously there are still things he needs to figure out, this whole pack thing, where he wants that to end up, and other things in his life, like school and everything, and he knows it's not all going to be easy or awesome, but he's-- he's pretty sure he's got Isaac now, and that's-- that's just really good. 

Things will work out, one way or another, and he'll still have _this_ , Isaac with all his different smiles and his wary, earnest eyes, his stupid long limbs and radiating this Isaac-ness, everything that makes him take up so much space no matter how hard he tries not to, and that includes now, apparently, Scott's heart, which, well. Scott can work with this.


End file.
